sk.cujo-第3章

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A　boy　of　eight　or　nine　was　standing　in　the　yard；　hitting　an　old　baseball　with　an　even　older　baseball　bat。　The　ball　would　travel　through　the　air；　strike　the　side　of　the　barn；　which　VIC　assumed　was　also　Mr。　Camber's　garage；　and　then　roll　most　of　the　way　back。
'Hi；'　the　boy　said。　'Are　you　Mr。　Trenton？'
'That's　right；'　Vic　said。
'I'll　get　my　dad；'　the　boy　said；　and　went　into　the　barn。
The　three　Trentons　got　out；　and　Vic　walked　around　to　the　back　of　his　jag　and　squatted　by　the　bad　wheel；　not　feeling　very　confident。　Perhaps　he　should　have　tried　to　nurse　the　car　into　Portland　after　all。　The　situation　out　here　didn't　look　very　promising；　Camber　didn't　even　have　a　sign　hung　out。
His　meditations　were　broken　by　Donna；　calling　his　name　nervously。　And　then：　'Oh　my　God；　Vic　…'
He　got　up　quickly　and　saw　a　huge　dog　emerging　from　the　barn。　For　one　absurd　moment　he　wondered　if　it　really　was　a　dog；　or　maybe　some　strange　and　ugly　species　of　pony。　Then；　as　the　dog　padded　out　of　the　shadows　of　the　barn's　mouth；　he　saw　its　sad　eyes　and　realized　it　was　a　Saint　Bernard。
Donna　had　impulsively　snatched　up　Tad　and　retreated　toward　the　hood　of　the　jag；　but　Tad　was　struggling　impatiently　in　her　arms；　trying　to　get　down。
'Want　to　see　the　doggy；　Mom　。。。　want　to　see　the　doggy！'
Donna　cast　a　nervous　glance　at　Vic；　who　shrugged；　also　uneasy。　Then　the　boy　came　back　and　ruffled　the　dog's　head　as　he　approached　Vic。　The　dog　wagged　a　tail　that　was　absolutely　huge；　and　Tad　redoubled　his　struggles。
'You　can　let　him　down；　ma'am；'　the　boy　said　politely。　'Cujo　likes　kids。　He　won't　hurt　him。'　And　then；　to　Vic：　'My　dad's　ing　right　out。　He's　washing　his　hands。'
'All　right；'　Vic　said。　'That's　one　hell　of　a　big　dog；　son。　Are　you　sure　he's　safe？'
'He's　safe；'　the　boy　agreed；　but　Vic　found　himself　moving　up　beside　his　wife　as　his　son；　incredibly　small；　toddled　toward　the　dog。　Cujo　stood　with　his　head　cocked；　that　great　brush　of　a　tail　waving　slowly　back　and　forth。
'Vic　…'　Donna　began。
'It's　all　right；'　Vic　said；　thinking；　I　hope。　The　dog　looked　big　enough　to　swallow　the　Tadder　in　a　single　bite。
Tad　stopped　for　a　moment；　apparently　doubtful。　He　and　the　dog　looked　at　each　other。
'Doggy？'　Tad　said。
'Cujo；'　Camber's　boy　said；　walking　over　to　Tad。　'His　name's　Cujo。'
'Cujo；'　Tad　said；　and　the　dog　came　to　him　and　began　to　lick　his　face　in　great；　goodnatured；　slobbery　swipes　that　had　Tad　giggling　and　trying　to　fend　him　off。　He　turned　back　to　his　mother　and　father；　laughing　the　way　he　did　when　one　of　them　was　tickling　him。　He　took　a　step　toward　them　and　his　feet　tangled　in　each　other。　He　fell　down；　and　suddenly　the　dog　was　moving　toward　him；　over　him；　and　Vic；　who　had　his　arm　around　Donna's　waist；　felt　his　wife's　gasp　as　well　as　he　heard　it。　He　started　to　move　forward　。。。　and　then　stopped。
Cujo's　teeth　had　clamped　on　the　back　of　Tad's　SpiderMan　T…shirt。　He　pulled　the　boy　up　…　for　a　moment　Tad　looked　like　a　kitten　in　its　mother's　mouth　…　and　set　the　boy　on　his　feet。
Tad　ran　back　to　his　mother　and　father。　'Like　the　doggy！　Mom！　Dad！　I　like　the　doggy！'
Camber's　boy　was　watching　this　with　mild　amusement；　his　hands　stuffed　into　the　pockets　of　his　jeans。
'Sure；　it's　a　great　dog；'　Vic　said。　He　was　amused；　but　his　heart　was　still　beating　fast。　For　just　one　moment　there　he　had　really　believed　that　the　dog　was　going　to　bite　off　Tad's　head　like　a　lollipop。　'It's　a　Saint　Bernard；　Tad；'　he　said。
'Saint。。。　Berinart　！'　Tad　cried；　and　ran　back　toward　Cujo；　who　was　now　sitting　outside　the　mouth　of　the　barn　like　a　small　mountain。　'Cujo！　Coooojo！'
Donna　tensed　beside　Vic　again。　'Oh；　Vic；　do　you　think
But　now　Tad　was　with　Cujo　again；　first　hugging　him　extravagantly　and　then　looking　closely　at　his　face。　With　Cujo　sitting　down　（his　tail　thumping　on　the　gravel；　his　tongue　lolling　out　pinkly）；　Tad　could　almost　look　into　the　dog's　eyes　by　standing　on　tiptoe。
'I　think　they're　fine；'　Vic　said。
Tad　had　now　put　one　of　his　small　hands　into　Cujo's　mouth　and　was　peering　in　like　the　world's　smallest　dentist。　That　gave　Vic　another　uneasy　moment；　but　then　Tad　was　running　back　to　them　again。　'Doggy's　got　teeth；'　he　told　Vic。
'Yes；'　Vic　said。　'Lots　of　teeth。；
He　turned　to　the　boy；　meaning　to　ask　him　where　he　had　e　up　with　that　name。　but　then　Joe　Camber　was　ing　out　of　the　barn；　wiping　his　hands　On　3　Piece　of　waste　so　he　could　shake　without　getting　Vic　greasy。
Vic　was　pleasantly　surprised　to　find　that　Camber　knew　exactly　what　he　was　doing。　He　listened　carefully　to　the　clunking　sound　as　he　and　Vic　drove　down　to　the　house　at　the　bottom　of　the　hill　and　then　back　up　to　Camber's　place。
'Wheel　bearing's　going；'　Camber　said　briefly。　'You're　lucky　it　ain't　froze　up　on　you　already。'
'Can　you　fix　it？'　Vic　asked。
'Oh；　ayuh。　Fix　it　right　now　if　you　don't　mind　hanging　around　for　a　couple　of　hours。'
'That'd　be　all　right；　I　guess；'　Vic　said。　He　looked　toward　Tad　and　the　dog。　Tad　had　gotten　the　baseball　Camber's　son　had　been　hitting。　He　would　throw　it　as　far　as　he　could　（which　wasn't　very　far）；　and　the　Cambers'　Saint　Bernard　would　obediently　get　it　and　bring　it　back　to　Tad。　The　ball　was　looking　decidedly　slobbery。　'Your　dog　is　keeping　my　son　amused。'
'Cujo　likes　kids；'　Camber　agreed。　'You　want　to　drive　your　car　into　the　barn；　Mr。　Trenton？'
The　doctor　will　see　you　now；　Vic　thought；　amused；　and　drove　the　jag　in。　As　it　turned　out；　the　job　only　took　an　hour　and　a　half　and　Camber's　price　was　so　reasonable　it　was　startling。
And　Tad　ran　through　that　cool；　overcast　afternoon；　calling　the　dog's　name　over　and　over　again：　'Cujo　。。。　Cooojo　。。。　heeere；　Cujo。　。　。　。'　just　before　they　left；　Camber's　boy；　whose　name　was　Brett；　actually　lifted　Tad　onto　Cujo's　back　and　held　him　around　the　waist　while　Cujo　padded　obediently　up　and　down　the　gravel　dooryard　twice。　As　it　passed　Vic；　the　dog　caught　his　eye　。。。　and　Vic　would　have　sworn　it　was　laughing。
Just　three　days　after　George　Meara's　bellowed　conversation　with　Aunt　Evvie　Chalmers；　a　little　girl　who　was　exactly　Tad　Trenton's　age　stood　up　from　her　place　at　the　breakfast　table　…said　breakfast　table　being　in　the　breakfast　nook　of　a　tidy　little　house　in　Iowa　City；　Iowa　…　and　announced：　'Oh；　Mamma；　I　don't　feel　so　good。　I　feel　like　I'm　going　to　be　sick。'
Her　mother　looked　around；　not　exactly　surprised。　Two　days　before；　Marcy's　bigger　brother　had　been　sent　from　school　with　a　raging　case　of　stomach　flu。　Brock　was　all　right　now；　but　he　had　spent　a　lousy　twenty…four　hours；　his　body　enthusiastically　throwing　off　ballast　from　both　ends。
'Are　you　sure；　honey？'　Marcy's　mother　said。
'Oh；　I　…'　Marcy　moaned　loudly　and　lurched　toward　the　downstairs　hall；　her　hands　laced　over　her　stomach。　Her　mother　followed　her；　saw　Marcy　buttonhook　into　the　bathroom；　and　thought；　Oh；　boy；　here　we　go　again。　If　I　don't　catch　this　it'll　be　a　miracle。
She　beard　the　retching　sounds　begin　and　turned　into　the　bathroom　her　mind　already　occupied　with　the　details：　clear　liquids；　bed　rest；　the　chamber…pot；　some　books；　Brock　could　take　the　portable　TV　up　to　her　room　when　he　got　back　from　school　and　
She　looked；　and　these　thoughts　were　driven　from　her　mind　with　the　force　of　a　roundhouse　slap。
'Me　toilet　bowl　where　her　four…year…old　daughter　had　vomited　was　full　of　blood；　blood　splattered　the　white　porcelain　lip　of　the　bowl；　blood　beaded　the　tiles。
'Oh；　Mommy；　I　don't　feel　good　…'
Her　daughter　turned；　her　daughter　turned；　turned；　and　there　was　blood　all　over　her　mouth；　it　was　down　her　chin；　it　was　matting　her　blue　sailor　dress；　blood；　oh　dear　God　dear　Jesus　Joseph　and　Mary　so　much　blood　
'Mommy　…；
And　her　daughter　did　it　again；　a　huge　bloody　mess　flying　from　her　mouth　to　patter　down　everywhere　like　sinister　rain；　and　then　Marcy's　mother　gathered　her　up　and　ran　with　her；　ran　for　the　phone　in　the　kitchen　to　dial　the　emergency　unit。
Cujo　knew　he　was　too　old　to　chase　rabbits。
He　wasn't　old；　no；　not　even　for　a　dog。　But　at　five；　he　was　well　past　his　puppyhood；　when　even　a　butterfly　had　been　enough　to　set　off　an　arduous　chase　through　the　woods　and　meadows　behind　the　house　and　barn。　He　was　five；　and　if　he　had　been　a　human；　he　would　have　been　entering　the　youngest　stage　of　middle　age。
But　it　was　the　sixteenth　of　June；　a　beautiful　early　morning；　the　dew　still　on　the　grass。　The　heat　Aunt　Evvie　had　predicted　to　George　Meara　had　indeed　arrived　…　it　was　the　warmest　early　June　in　years　…　and　by　two　that　afternoon　Cujo　would　be　lying　in　the　dusty　dooryard　（or　in　the　barn；　if　THE　BOY　would　let　him　in；　which　he　sometimes　did　when　he　was　drinking；　which　was　most　of　the　time　these　days）；　panting　under　the　hot　sun。　But　that　was　later。
And　the　rabbit；　which　was　large；　brown；　and　plump；　didn't　have　the　slightest　idea　Cujo　was　there；　down　near　the　end　of　the　north　field；　a。　mile　from　the　house。　The　wind　was　blowing　the　wrong　way　for　Br'er　Rabbit。
Cujo　worked　toward　the　rabbit；　out　for　sport　rather　than　meat。　The　rabbit　munched　happily　away　at　new　clover　that　would　be　baked　and　brown　under　the　relentless　sun　a　month　later。　If　he　had　only　covered　half　the　original　distance　between　himself　and　the　rabbit　when　the　rabbit　saw　him　and　bolted；　Cujo　would　have　let　it　go。　But　he　had　actually　got　to　within　fifteen　yards　of　it　when　the　rabbit's　head　and　ears　came　up。　For　a　moment　the　rabbit　did　not　move　at　all；　it　was　a　frozen　rabbit　sculpture　with　black　walleyes　bulging　ically。　Then　it　was　off。
Barking　furiously；　Cujo　gave　chase。　The　rabbit　was　very　small　and　Cujo　was　very　big；　but　the　possibility　of　the　thing　put　an　extra　ration　of　energy　in　Cujo's　legs。　He　actually　got　dose　enough　to　paw　at　the　rabbit。　The　rabbit　zigged。　Cujo　came　around　more　ponderously；　his　claws　digging　black　meadow　dirt；　losing　some　ground　at　first；　making　it　up　quickly。　Birds　took　wing　at　his　heavy；　chopping　bark；　if　it　is　possible　for　a　dog　to　grin；　Cujo　was　grinning　then。　The　rabbit　zagged；　then　made　straight　across　the　north　field。
Cujo　pelted　after　it；　already　suspecting　this　was　one　race　he　wasn't　going　to　win。
But　he　tried　hard；　and　he　was　gaining　on　the　rabbit　again　when　it　dropped　into　a　small　hole　in　the　side　of　a　small　and　easy　hill。　The　hole　was　overgrown　by　long　grasses；　and　Cujo　didn't　hesitate。　He　lowered　his　big　tawny　body　into　a　kind　of　furry　projectile　and　let　his　forward　motion　carry　him　in　。。。　where　he　promptly　stuck　like　a　cork　in　a　bottle。
Joe　Camber　had　owned　Seven　Oaks　Farm　out　at　the　end　of　Town　Road　No。　3　for　seventeen　years；　but　he　had　no　idea　this　hole　was　here。　He　surely　would　have　discovered　it　if　farming　was　his　business；　but　it　wasn't。　There　was　no　livestock　in　the　big　red　barn；　it　was　his　garage　and　auto…body　shop。　His　son　Brett　rambled　the　fields　and　woods　behind　the　home　place　frequently；　but　he　had　never　noticed　the　hole　either；　although　on　several　occasions　he　had　nearly　put　his　foot　in　it；　which　might　have　earned　him　a　broken　ankle。　On　clear　days　the　hole　could　pass　for　a　shadow；　on　cloudy　days；　overgrown　with　grass　as　it　was；　it　disappeared　altogether。
John　Mousam；　the　farm's　previous　owner；　had　known　about　the　hole　but　had　never　thought　to　mention　it　to　Joe　Camber　when　Joe　bought　the　place　in　1963。　He　might　have　mentioned　it；　as　a　caution；　when　Joe　and　his　wife；　Charity；　had　their　son　in　1970；　but　by　then　the　cancer　had　carried　old　John　off。
It　was　just　as　well　Brett　had　never　found　it。　There's　nothing　in　the　world　quite　so　interesting　to　a